


Golgotha

by stormyphoenixx



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Death, Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Gen, Heavy use of the Gospel of Luke, Reflection, Scene: Crucifixion of Jesus 33 AD (Good Omens), Sympathy, Two supernatural entities witness Crucifixion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21669589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormyphoenixx/pseuds/stormyphoenixx
Summary: Golgotha, 33 AD, Crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Two supernatural entities witness. Some of Crowley's thoughts are revealed.Featuring the exact exchange of lines from Ep.3, and quotes from the Gospel of Luke.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Golgotha

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ila_cobalt27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ila_cobalt27/gifts).



> Uhm... hello? (Here I might kinda sound like Aziraphale speaking to Mary Hodges... lol)  
> So, I've been here on AO3 for a while as a reader, and I got into the GO fandom in late summer. This idea came up while I was watching the cold opening and sat there until about two weeks ago, when I had some more ideas and the drive to write got overwhelming (and I'd been stuck with a writer's block for a while now). I know it's not really much original, but I wanted to offer my take on this. Mistakes might be found, but keep in mind that English is my second language and I'm still learning, so be patient!  
> Many thanks to ila_cobalt27, who got me into this beautiful fandom and beta'd the story for me <3
> 
> Warning: it's quite implied that there's some mild depiction of violence, being the story about Jesus Christ's Passion, just wanted to give a heads up if you're sensitive

The road leading outside the walls of Jerusalem was stained in dark red, followed by a furrow in the soil, and the trails led to the hill of Golgotha, whose Hebrew name meant “skull”. 

Under a sun that was growing somehow pale, three men went to their death in the most infamous, shameful way, a recently imported Roman technique. Two of them were ordinary criminals, so crucifixion was expected; the other one looked too ordinary, but nothing about him really was. 

He'd been beaten and flogged harshly, wore a crown of thorns that had been pushed on his skull so hard that blood still dripped and his clothes were quite one dirty mess; he was the first in line, it seemed. His name was Jesus. 

Roman soldiers approached and disrobed him, dragged him around and threw him down on a wooden cross, holding his limbs in place. When the hammer fell for the first time on the first nail, everyone winced hearing the flesh being pierced and the man shouting in pain… and it was only the start. 

A slender figure clad in black slithered in the middle of the crowd, most likely unnoticed as the people were all focused on the gory spectacle, stopped almost at the side of a seemingly middle aged man wearing cream coloured clothes and turban. 

“Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?” were Crowley's first words, a discrete whisper. 

The nearest man, Aziraphale in undercover as a common citizen, got slightly startled. “Smirk? Me?” he managed to say back, despite the knot in the throat the situation had caused him. 

The demon shuffled lightly, the hood of his abaya moving a bit in the breeze. “Well, your lot put him on there.” Words came out sounding almost casual, but deep down there was more. 

The angel felt as if his heart had been squeezed. “I’m not consulted on policy decisions, Crawly.” 

Hearing his old name made Crowley feel instantly weird, so he felt compelled to share the new info. “Oh, I changed that.” 

“Changed what?” now the angel was definitely curious. 

“My name. Crawly just wasn’t really doing it for me,” Crowley explained, without taking his eyes off the ongoing scene in front of him “it’s a bit too squirming-at-your-feet-ish.” 

“Well, you were a snake” Aziraphale considered, not averting his eyes as well, and felt a bit like teasing the other supernatural entity. “So what is it now? Mephistopheles? Asmodeus?” 

“Crowley” the other answered, dryly. Aziraphale hummed quietly, taking note of the new name and quite liking how it sounded. Then the cruel reality bit back at him. “Did you, uh… ever meet him?” he asked, hinting at the man who was being nailed to wood. 

“Yeah. Seemed a bright young man” Crowley answered, his voice milder. “I showed him all the kingdoms of the world” he added after a short pause. It was a hint to the reason he was there: Below had sent him to tempt Jesus as he fasted in the desert, three years earlier, as he figured out the mission She had given him and got ready for it. He knew that his boss would most likely take credits for that himself, stealing them from him, but he didn’t care that much after all. 

“Why?” 

_Because I was told to tempt him, so God's plans would go pear-shaped if he eventually gave in._ This would have been the official explanation. “He’s a carpenter from Galilee, his travel opportunities are limited” he offered as his own explanation, a lighter and nicer one. 

Conversation had distracted the two immortal beings enough not to notice that soldiers were done with the first nail. 

Aziraphale and Crowley both winced in sympathy, the former visibly, the latter internally, as Jesus’s other wrist was pierced by a second nail and blood gushed. “That's got to hurt…” were the only words the demon managed to utter. They hid some more complex, deep thoughts and feelings. 

_She sent Her Son to save Her favourite creatures, humans, and he has to go through all of this in order to save them? It’s folly. Hope you know what you’re doing, Jesus. I don’t know, I can’t understand, probably never will. Despite being a demon, there’s still something in my chest. Some kind of soul, as I’m still able to perceive others' pain and occasionally be affected by it. For some reason, your pain is affecting me right now, even though I shouldn't care._

“What was it he said that got everyone so upset?” he asked, after a brief silence, giving a look at his surroundings even from above his shoulder. 

“Be kind to each other.” 

_Nice message, but after having known humans for more than four thousand years I completely see the reason why this message received such reaction_. “Oh, yeah. That'll do it.” He perfectly saw the point. 

Shortly after, the cross was lifted with some help and raised to stand on the bloody ground of Golgotha, the other two criminals were nailed to their own crosses almost in a hurry and positioned on Jesus's sides, resembling somehow a king in a council with two counsellors, as if they hadn’t mocked him enough so far. They also had put a writing above Jesus's head: The King of the Jews. 

Some people in the crowd sneered at him and shouted things. “Let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, the chosen one!”, said the leaders. “If you are the King of Jews, save yourself!” mocked the Roman soldiers. They perfectly knew he was at their mercy, and it was just additional injury to the degrading death penalty he was undergoing. 

“Something makes me believe that these bastards came up with such sick ideas by themselves” muttered Crowley. 

“Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” now even one of the criminals who'd been crucified joined the chorus of derision. Pain had just made him scared of dying and selfish. 

“Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?” the other one rebuked with all the voice he still kept among the pains. “And we have indeed been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds. But this man has done nothing wrong.” His breath was laboured and he kept silent for a while, before managing to lift his head and look at the blood-covered man near him. “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” he pleaded. He was scared of death as well, but now he saw clearly, and repented. 

“Truly I tell you,” Jesus whispered, “today you will be with me in Paradise.” 

_That_ _thief j_ _ust_ _achieved_ _the best_ _theft_ _of_ _his_ _miserable l_ _ife. He_ _repented a_ _t_ _the r_ _ight_ _time,_ _took_ _profit of the_ _favourable_ _situation, and he_ _got s_ _alvation_ _._

Aziraphale and Crowley stood in silence through the hours, as the sun got pale and the sky dulled, until the moment in which Jesus cried his last words and life left his body. It was done. 

They stood almost like statues as the earth trembled and rumbled, the Roman centurion beneath the cross erupted in a shocked admission and bystanders fled, and were still watching it all as Joseph of Arimathea came to recover that poor body, to give it proper burial. Crowley really couldn’t see the reason for Her son to go through all of this; he was Fallen, after all, and doubted of Her plans. A dull ache had set in his chest hours earlier… seemingly, despite being a demon, something angelic or just human resided in him. He felt sympathy for his estranged Mother's son, strange but true. Aziraphale, as the angel he was, just had faith it would all turn out good. He never questioned Her. 

“Let's go” the angel murmured, sadness permeating his voice. The demon only nodded before taking his arm in his, threw a last look at the bloodied crosses and followed him into the dark, sorrowful night that was ahead. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's it. Hope you liked, comments and kudos would be appreciated as well as constructive criticism! And if you wanna chat with me you can find me on tumblr as @stormyphoenix


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